Think nothing of it

Hey, no really.

I know I’m coming up the stairs.

And in my left hand is my overloaded and too heavy laptop bag.

With much ancillary paperwork hanging out of the various pockets.

And in my right hand is an A4 pad.

And an A4 document wallet.

Stuffed, as you can see, with papers.

And underneath my left elbow is an A4 ringbinder.

And it’s all very heavy.

And I’m in danger of losing control – one way or another.

And I’m obviously looking flushed and hot because it’s warm out there (you know, one of those days when sitting in the car is like sitting in a greenhouse).

And you have nothing.

In either hand.

But you have a bluetooth headset.

And you’re talking to Lisa.

Because I can hear your voice echoing around the stairwell.

And yes, The Apprentice is on tonight.

But don’t worry.

Because I will get out of your way.

Even though you could more easily move out of mine.

And I’ve come up three flights on this line.

Whereas you have only just started your descent.

And you’re still on the third step.

Hey, no really.

Think nothing of it.

And if you’re coming to the meeting I’m chairing in 15 minutes time?

Just don’t bother.

Because you’re not going to play a part.

I’ve decided.

Arseface.

B.